RP:Ghosts In the Machine
This roleplay is created and directed by Sona 'Demal. GHOSTS IN THE MACHINE "Doubt is a weapon more deadly than any gun or warship." Outline Rules Joining If this RP caught your attention and you want to take part in it, leave me a message and I'll consider it based on your skills of writing. I will most likely let you in, if you do not fall under any of these categories: #Disregarding canon-friendliness and grammar. #Gaining three civility warnings or a temporary block. #Vandalizing articles on the wiki. You can either inform me of any of these yourself, or I can find out myself. If it's the former, there's a chance I will still allow you to participate if your issues on this site aren't too serious and are amendable. If it's the latter, then you will most definitely not be permitted. If I invited you myself to take part in the RP, then you've already passed the first test. Needless to say, that can be subject to change should you create any problems for us or anyone else on Halo Fanon. Logging Once it's confirmed that you're to contribute to this RP, then please follow the instructions below. If you're going to create a new character(s), make an article for them and write out a decent-length that has details on each one. You can do this while the RP is ongoing, so you don't have to wait until it's finished before you participate in the RP. If you want to use your existing characters, ask me for details on the time frame and circumstances of the RP. You can use as many of your characters as you want, but don't list too many or else you'll find it hard to keep track of it all. Note that this RP takes place in the year 2559, and will span over approximately 1 month. Once you're clear on which of your characters you can use, add them to the same list. You don't necessarily have to write about the events in this RP for your existing characters, although if you can put it in a parallel-universe or even the same universe, that'd be great. Just don't forget to use if you're intending to do so. You can pick up to five main characters in total. You can use as many minor characters as you want, and you don't have to list them; again, as long as you can keep track of them all, it's up to you. Once you have decided on your characters, do the following: #List your name, along with your characters, beneath the "Logged Operators" section. #Check the RP for updates. You can add this page to your watchlist by clicking "Follow" in the blue ribbon at the bottom left (unless it already says "Following"). Roleplay You must obey the following regulations during the RP: #Do not post consecutively, or post as the same character more than once in each part of the RP. #Proofread your work before you submit it. Using the preview button is a good habit to develop on this site. #There are no limits to how violent you can make your part of the RP, however, avoid making your section more description than it is story. #If you're intending to use someone else's character in your part of the RP as a major role, please consult the user who signed as that character. Even if it's a minor role, I suggest you talk to them about it so as to avoid putting them out of character. #Ask any questions you have on the discussion page. If I don't respond after a long period of time, inform me on my talk page. #Minimum length for a post is 250 words, or three paragraphs. #Sign the end of your post with ~~~~ or your own custom non-bubble box signature, then lay out a new section for the next user. For example, if you're writing under 1 , put 2 at the bottom of your post. Also take note of the following: #Each part of the RP will consist of 8 to 10 posts. You do not have to make a post in every part, but there is a first-come, first-served policy for the sake of keeping the RP going at a fair speed. #To keep things organized, I may ask you questions about your post to ensure that relevance is maintained. You can make your posts however interesting you want, as long as you don't go against or move too far from the story that's established at the beginning of each part. #I may change parts of your work for reasons you may or may not know about, but it's only if things are seriously out of place. If I spot a smaller problem, I'll leave you a message and tell you to change it (tell, not ask). Logged Operators (Open) *[[Felix-116|'LCDR Felix-116, UNSCN']] *[[Raphael Esquival-Cortez|'CPL Raphael Esquival-Cortez, UNSCMC']] *[[Autel 'Vadam|'SpecOps Officer Autel 'Vadam, IUSCO']] *[[Sona 'Demal|'Ultra Sona 'Demal, IUSO']] *[[William-B101|'Lieutenant William Cairns —']] Also known as SPARTAN-B101 or as "DIGGER". Cairns is an Australian-Terran Spartan Headhunter who currently serves with the Naval Special Warfare Development Group within the Human Inner Colonies. *[[Leonardo Simmons|'Lieutenant Leonardo Simmons, UNSCN']] *[[Amber Davies|'First Lieutenant Amber Davies, UNSCMC']] *[[Jackson-A104|'LCDR Jackson-A104, UNSCA']] *[[Dame 'Cedul|'Supreme Commander of the Supercarrier ''Liberate Advocate Dame 'Cedul']] *[[Stryker-B210|'CMDR Stryker-B210, UNSCA']] *'Buchanan Brown''' - Survived the Fall of New Vegas during the Human-Covenant War. Jack of all trades, and independent mercenary. *'Vivian Singh' - Captain of the Lucky 38, a tramp freighter. She is also Robert House's enforcer, the enigmatic owner of Massive Dynamic. *'Stanley Mundy' - Former member of the 1st Reconnaissance Battalion of the UNSC Marine Corps, now works independently as a mercenary. *'Dane S. Steward' - Captain of the Mojave Express, a tramp freighter, usually docked at New Vegas City. Known for his socially inappropriate behavior. *'Victor Mason' - Engineer, known for his ability to craft just about anything. This includes his invention of a hovering camera ball, which he refers to as an "Eyebot". *'Stewart Butler' - Former UNSC Field Medic, excellent battlefield surgeon. Now works as a Freelance doctor, helping those who are unwilling to seek medical aid or physicians. *[[Percival Macintosh|'Sergeant Percival Macintosh, UNSCA']] *[[Chen-179|'Chen-D179,UNSC']] *[[Ryu-340|'Ryu-D340, UNSC']] *[[Sonia-D343|'Sonia-D343, UNSC']] *'LTJG Jake-G294'--Squad leader for the now-infamous Team Jian, Jake and his single remaining subordinate, Ralph-G299, have been repurposed at their own request into a Headhunter team. *'WO Ralph-G299'--The only surviving member of Team Jian aside from Jake-G293, Ralph underwent specialized Headhunter training alongside his last remaining friend and is now operational and under the command of UNSC Navy Special Warfare Command. *'Ro'nin'--Cast out of his family's keep for a heinous crime, this disgraced Sangheili abandoned whatever old titles he once possessed and took up one he learned from human criminals in the galactic underground. Having lost all respect for Sangheili culture, he fights for any side regardless of creed or doctrine and does not care if a cause is just or noble so long as it pays him for his services. *'Ultra Jad 'Falcram'--A newly-promoted Sangheili Ultra, Jad leads his troops with distinction against the Fallen during the fighting on Sanghelios. *'Iscariot'--This Sangheili spy operates under a human code name while working for the expanding criminal organization known as the Syndicate in an attempt to use the fighting on Sanghelios to expand the organization's influence in Sangheili space. *'[[Stel 'Vadam|'Field Master Stel 'Vadam']]'--An experienced warrior and uncle to Autel 'Vadam, Stel 'Vadam is a veteran of the Human-Covenant War and served as Autel's mentor when he was young. Stel has now been reassigned to combat the threat of the Fallen. He is known for his considerable authority and for the scars his endured during the Human-Covenant War - one of the most-well known being his robotic prosthetic left arm. *'Zealot Jemsal 'Emvadson' - Leader of the Lance of Unrelenting Reparation, Jemsal is currently dealing with the threat of the Fallen on Sangheilios while Holy Commander Ameigh Broley continues dealing with external threats. *'Ultra Quris 'Nephtyr' - An experienced special operations warrior and former member of the Lance of Unrelenting Reparation, Quris is a key member in the fight against Sangheili separatist movements that has been reassigned back to Sangheilios to deal with the rising Fallen threat. *'Master Chief Petty Officer Riker-012' - A SPARTAN-II supersoldier that has been a Leonidan operator for the course of his career, Riker-012 has been deployed specially by ONI to support the current SPARTAN detachment. *'Sergeant Perseus Jackson' - A sergeant of the Marine Corps, Perseus "Percy" Jackson and his ODST Squad are being deployed alongside a small contingent of UNSC forces to aid in the defense of Sangheilios. *'Chief Petty Officer Ryder-326' - A member of the second generation of JAVELIN, Ryder-326 has been rerouted to Sangheilios for two purposes: to aid in keeping the Fallen at bay, and to ensure that Kedar-198 does not become involved in the conflict. *'Kedar-198' - A rogue JAVELIN-II operator, Kedar-198 left the UNSC for unknown reasons, and has since aided numerous rebel movements and mercenary outfits, wreaking havoc across UNSC space wherever possible. His actions against the Sangheili post-war have strained relationships, and it is possible that he intends to aggravate the situation on Sangheilios. * Dimitri Reznov * Norsak 'Zaremee *'Lieutenant Francis McCourt' — McCourt is a special activities field operator of the Office of Naval Intelligence. *Marcus Cell-A man of action and not of words, Marcus fought uprisings on Earth during the Human-Covenant War. This, however, is no ordinary rebellion... * First Lieutenant Justin-057 UNSC- A SPARTAN-II supersoldier well renowned for his skills and accomplishments during the Human-Covenant War, Justin had spent most of his career going solo, preferring to be alone due to several incidents resulting in the death of several of his beloved comrades. Finding himself on all fronts, Justin had learned to be self-reliant, although he would come to the aide of allied forces whenever needed, risking his very life to ensure their well being. Justin-057 is currently in cryosleep for unknown reasons but will be awakened to support the SPARTAN detachment in their battle against the rising Fallen. * [[Cotoal 'Turlik|'Ultra Cotoal 'Turlik, IUSO']] - An experienced warrior that once had the chance to fight alongside one of the hated Demons, Cotoal is a veteran of the Human-Covenant War that formerly commanded the now disbanded Alliance Team, being deemed a maverick for his actions but was eventually hailed as one of several heroes of the war. Although well composed and commanding, Cotoal has a penchant for fighting and when reassigned to combat the rising Fallen threat, he approached with glee and fervor. Introduction The Fallen is widely regarded as enemies and a tension is present on Sanghelios. They threaten war upon their own species, their own blood, their own brothers. There is no choice; the aid of the humans must be found. But whether their intentions are honourable or not is yet to be seen, and the thinly built trust that they made may sever, and bring the two species back on opposite ends of the fight. Prologue Sangheili Minor Taszar 'Vadam moved quickly, evading the energy bolts that flew past him. He retaliated by firing his Plasma Rifle at his opponent, taking a few shots on his shields. He closed in, punching the enemy had on the shoulder, breaking the bone. As the other Sangheili dropped his weapon and moved to retaliate with his working arm, the minor domo lashed out swiftly with his leg, causing his opponent to lose his balance. The separatist managed to remain standing, but looked up just in time to see the young Sangheili cracking his weapon over his head. The assailant fell back and crumpled. Taszar made sure the enemy was dead, and paused for a moment to think. How much longer would this war drag on? For six years, this conflict had been spreading throughout Sanghelios and other nearby systems. Many Sangheili had objected openly to their truce with the humans after the defeat of the Covenant Loyalists and their treacherous leaders the San'Shyuum, and created a rebel group called "The Fallen". Their belief had been that they had fallen from honour by taking the side of the humans, and although they were no believers of the delusive Great Journey, circumstances turned what should have been a triumphant return from the war to a bitter disagreement. After months of tense political dispute and suspicious activities from the Fallen, war erupted on Sanghelios. The protesters were unusually well-organized, and friends turned unexpectedly on each other. The conflicts were long and bloody, and although the original Fallen leader, Atsu 'Hidal had been killed three years ago, it was rumoured there was another one operating in secrecy. And now, although he hated the war greatly from the day he joined the battles, the fighting itself did not bother Taszar unduly. Killing another Sangheili was the same as any other foe, if there was a good reason. Taszar swore as he saw more Fallen charging him. Where were those reinforcements that were supposed to be here? He couldn't take them all on his own. Unfortunately, the Sangheili were spread thin trying to hold down the separatist forces, and soldiers were being sent to and fro to wherever was needed most. Anyone put in a squad were most likely to be in a heavy skirmish, and would be lucky to have a leader rallying them. It looked like was alone for the time being, and there was nothing for it but to take them all out. Opening fire, the young Sangheili cut down one of the separatists with a sustained burst, grimacing as he noticed his own shields were depleted. There was no time to take cover. Drawing a plasma pistol, he melted the head of a second with an overcharged shot. Raising his rifle again, he fired rapidly on the last enemy, but didn't manage to take him down before the gun overheated too and vented blue steam. Taszar dropped his weapons, preparing to deal with the separatist with his own hands. The assailant's mandibles parted in a nasty smile as he aimed at the young Sangheili, but didn't move more than two steps before he screamed and jerked upward. Two energy blades appeared in his chest. The Fallen fell (Taszar smiled grimly at the irony), and another Sangheili appeared out of the air. It was his friend, Zehr'tul 'Sumai. "There are more enemies coming," the stealth soldier said, handing him his rifle back. "I managed to slow them down, but they seem to have something of importance in these facilities, because they keep sending soldiers to take this area back." "Do you have a plan?" Taszar asked. "Our reinforcements are almost here. They are coming by foot. Something shot their dropship down." The Fallen were becoming increasingly resourceful, and their threat was heavier than ever. This war had to end soon. "We should go," Zehr'tul said, turning around. "Tico 'Serul says he will hold the Fallen away from this area until he finds what they are trying to keep us away from. The Arbiter has a suspicion as to what it is. We are being ordered to destroy the hidden anti-aircraft cannons so that our Phantoms can make their way through here." Tico 'Serul was one of the most renowned Special Operations Officers in the military. The fact that the Arbiter wanted a massive force placed here, a fairly large commando squad no less, meant that there was a good chance something of importance was around here. "You should see how many units are being pulled over here," Zehr'tul said, reading his mind. "The battle here should be over soon." Over? Taszar thought, following him down the street. Were it so easy. Autel 'Vadam entered the Keep, carefully cradling a series of bundles in his arms. Usually the symbols and images engraved into the wall would interest him whenever he moved up or down the stairs, but today his mind was elsewhere. It had been for a while now. Upon reaching the fourth level, he easily found her room, and opened the door. "Autel?" a voice called. "Is that you?" "Yes, Cyla," he replied, entering. "I have returned." He handed the bundles over to her, and wiped the perspiration off his face. Cyla sat up in bed, leaning against the wall. "Was there any trouble?" she asked, unwrapping the bundles, and looking at them. "No. No one ventures here, and there is not much they would want from us." His calm demeanour tensed as he heard the sound of the main door opening and closing. Drawing a plasma pistol, he said, "Remain here." The Vadam Keep was emptier than usual, because a lot of the soldiers were fighting the separatists, and the younglings and elderly were kept out of danger. He had long disapproved of the decision, although it had been ordered for everyone on Sanghelios. He himself felt there was little honour in abandoning one's Keep, which was not only a home but a representation of who any Sangheili was. But it was pointed out that the Fallen, despite their claims, did not always abide by their honour, and it wouldn't be put past them to slaughter those unable to defend themselves. It could be a Vadam returning from the State, the albino Sangheili thought. But these days, it never hurt to be careful. Autel silently padded down the stairs, pistol ready, but relaxed when he saw who it was. An exhausted-looking Sangheili was making his way towards the stairs. He wore a grey-coloured armour, with ancient symbols and patterns etched upon it. It was the Arbiter, Thel 'Vadam. "How was your day, father?" Autel asked. "Not good," Thel replied wearily. "The Fallen are causing more trouble, and I am not sure we can keep them down much longer." Thel had taken a political position on Sanghelios, and was trying to negotiate terms with the separatists. "What about their leader?" Autel said, as they made their way up the stairs. "We still do not know who it is. He refuses to meet directly." "We are certain there is a leader, then?" "Yes, but we cannot sense his intentions. He makes his moves very carefully." Thel looked slightly frustrated. "What have you discovered?" "We have found more traitors among the families," Autel said. "Nadi 'Andal has also been recently acquitted following suspicions of assisting the Fallen. He claims he was set up by the Vadum family." Thel frowned. The young Sangheili knew he was thinking about Fleet Master Rtas 'Vadum, whose honour would never lead him to betray them to the Fallen. But perhaps his family was not necessarily the same way. However, the Arbiter's expression faded into a slight smile when they reached Cyla's room. "Greetings, Arbiter," she said, gently laying the bundles on the bed. "Please, come in." The two Sangheili entered, and as Autel sat down beside his father, Thel said, "Congratulations. How many?" "Three," Cyla said, looking down fondly at the sleeping newborns. "Two males, one female." "I had just returned from the mountaintop," Autel said. "I was about to take them to the temple for the final blessing." Thel examined each of the baby Sangheili. "Their appearances seem to be normal," he observed. The newborns were slumbering peacefully, looking completely untroubled. The female shifted as she awoke, yawned, and opened her eyes. The Arbiter inhaled sharply. Her irises were the same colour as Autel's. White, with a hint of red in them. Naturally piercing. "That will not be a problem," Autel said. "No one in the Keep will know." After newborns were blessed, the males were kept in the Keep, while the females were sent into the State, along with the mother. The doctor entered the room, holding a container. "Cyla, I must administer to you one last dose of the strengthening solution." Thel stood up, placed his fingers to his chest in the "best of luck" gesture, and left the room. Autel stood up too. "I will return soon," he said. Cyla nodded, and said, "I will prepare to leave." Sangheili females lost a lot of blood upon giving birth, and she had spent the last few units trying to recover it. They quickly embraced, and he picked up the newborns gently and left the room. Autel walked down the steps of the keep carrying the three tiny bundles. He was a father. The thought had been in his mind all morning, but it still filled him with a great joy. He knew that the males would never know that he was their ancestor when they became older, but he would be able to watch over them and ensure they became great warriors. Thel had looked worried when he saw the female's eyes. He himself had been thinking about it more than once. It was one of the many signs that would mark her as different as she become older, no doubt. But perhaps it was also an indication of something special about her. He had seen Cyla's far-away look when she gazed on her daughter. He could never tell what she was thinking when she looked like that. Autel's hooves clicked on the stone as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He spun as he heard a rustling, saw a flash of armour and ducked. Without giving time to pause, he left the newborns on the ground as he rose again, activating his Energy Sword. It was strange that there were intruders inside the Keep at this time, but long-time experience had taught him to remain alive during the moment of crisis and find the answers later. Air whistled behind him, and he spun and blocked the energy staff. With a twist of his wrist he destroyed the weapon. Another twist, and his attacker's head flew off. More of the Fallen rushed out of the other rooms, each of them carrying armfuls of bundles. With a horrible realization of what they were doing, he looked down, and saw that the bundles no longer lay at his feet. In the doorway, a Sangheili was holding them. His children. The separatists were running out of the keep, and Autel gave chase. He cut down as many of them as he could, but kept his eyes on the one trailing behind. Leaping through the air, he drove his energy blades deep into his back. The rest of the enemies were gone. Pulling his weapon out of the dead Sangheili, he looked down and realized that there were not three bundles, but two. Looking them over, he realized that they were not his children. Slowly and carefully, he headed back towards the Keep, picking up all the newborns he could find. Fortunately, none of them were hurt, but he felt hollow inside. His own offspring were gone. Taken. Cyla jerked up as she heard a mighty roar, and the sound of an Energy Sword activating. She knew something was wrong. The doctor looked up. "Is there a problem, Excellency?" Cyla twisted to look out the window, where many Sangheili were running down the path, with Autel running after them, cutting them down. "What has happened?" She watched Autel disappear down the path for a moment, and headed back inside holding something. There was the sound of urgent conversation downstairs, and after several minutes, he entered the room, holding a deactivated Energy Sword. His normally pale eyes were a deep shade of crimson, and his mandibles were bared in anger. His hands trembling, he placed the weapon back on his side. Breathing erratically, he looked at Cyla slowly and said softly, "They have taken them." His expression held great pain. The doctor awkwardly left the room, and a moment later, Cyla felt tears running down her face. She cried out in despair and squeezed her eyes shut, feeling Autel's arms around her. She could almost feel his sadness. Cyla tried to stop her weeping, but could not, and wished that her hearts would stop beating. Part One Lieutenant Commander Felix Martel paced the floor back and forth, thinking. He was dimly aware that the Independent Crusader entered Slipspace, but he couldn't help but feel that it wasn't quick enough. "Are you certain that the transmission reached Zeta-9?" he asked. Cortana's hologram flickered on at a nearby pedestal. She still seemed different after she had been modified by the Forerunner technicians. She had opted to remain without a physical form, but had a tinge of silver to her purple-blue image. But she didn't seem as obstructed by memory space anymore, which could only be an improvement. "No, I'm not certain," Cortana replied. "Once a COM probe is sent through Slipspace it is impossible to track down. Even with our developing technology it'll still be decades before we figure out how. But I'm ninety-three point six four percent certain the transition was successful, and a ninety-one point two seven percent chance of exit without anomaly." One thing never changed about her though. She was still as smart-mouthed as ever. "Thank you," the Spartan officer said dryly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw John's helmet twitch slightly, behind which he was sure held a knowing smile. No doubt the Chief had received many of Cortana's cynical comments before. The senior Spartan decided to sit down instead. Assembled around the room were the other Spartans. Blue and Grey Team of the SPARTAN-IIs, and Beta Company and Team Sabre of the SPARTAN-IIIs. If Ezekiel received the transmission, he would have gathered Team Katana to meet them at Zeta-9. Felix thought back to the message. It seemed odd that the proud, honourable Sangheili would do something like wage wars upon themselves. He knew what caused it, and felt a slight twinge of guilt for the Sangheili. They still remained allies to the UNSC, even after the separatists threatened war. "How long until we arrive?" he asked. "You're rather jumpy," Cortana said, but decided to give an answer. "Including our first exit to pick up the others, we will reenter normal space at Sanghelios in fifteen hours." The Spartan's hands tightened. Fifteen hours was such a long time. And he owed a favour to the species that had pulled him out of dead space and saved Earth, twice. "Relax," the AI advised. "With our old engines it would have taken us days." The Lieutenant Commander sighed. She was right. They were headed for Sanghelios at maximum speed, and there was nothing he could really do about it to get there faster. He had to accept that and put it out of his mind, like any other Spartan. It was difficult, because he wasn't a Spartan. Not really. He hadn't been trained like everyone else, and only the Forerunner chemicals injected into his body kept him alive through the past three years. Still, he decided to distract himself by examining the upgraded weapons. Despite the newly claimed Forerunner weapons and intelligence, the UNSC had not wanted to overkill their tech with ultra-powerful weapons, as such objects could cause problems if there was ever trouble for humanity again (if the Insurrection were reformed, to say, or perhaps a greater threat). And seeing what had happened on Sanghelios, Felix didn't really blame them. The senior Spartan surveyed the team. He had found and gathered the survivors of the supersoldiers in 2556, and they had been through a lot since then. The UNSC must have understood the urgency of the situation, because sending every Spartan they had was a bit much for most ops. Then again, it wasn't like they had anything to do at Earth anyway. Blue Team were the most well-known SPARTAN-IIs alive. Lieutenant Frederic-104 was the leading officer, although he cared a bit too much about his subordinates. Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy John-117 was probably the most known of his team, after his accomplishments on Installations 04, 05, and the Ark (although Cortana often liked to call it "luck"). Although Fred outranked him, he held that air of leadership about him. Petty Officers Kelly-087 and Linda-058 were almost complete opposites. Kelly liked cracking jokes, preferred close range combat and worked well with anything that fired full automatic. Linda was often quiet, had a serious, almost cold personality, and posted as a sharpshooter unless ordered otherwise. However, to say that Linda was just a sniper was like saying a Warthog was just a car, or the UNSC was just a group of soldiers. Grey Team were trained under the same class as Blue Team, but were more discreet. Petty Officers Jai-006 and Adriana-111 were a bit more on the loose side than most Spartans, and their pilot Mike perhaps a bit too much so. They had not seen as much action as most SPARTAN-IIs over the course of their career, but that was not to say they were incompetent. The Lieutenant Commander had found out just how much he could trust them in 2556. Tom-B292 and Lucy-B091 were the senior SPARTAN-IIIs. Although their combat strategies were similar to one another, Felix had never heard Lucy say a word. He knew that she wasn't merely quiet. Not even Linda kept such a long stretch of silence in the three years he knew her. Something was obviously wrong with her ability to speak, but he didn't want to ask if she wasn't willing to tell. Then again, she never told anyone anything. Ash, Olivia, and Mark were the Gamma Company SPARTAN-IIIs, under Team Sabre. They were a bit rough around the edges, but worked well as a team, and had proven their worth in combat. Team Katana was no different. Ezekiel-254 was a Class II SPARTAN-II. He was given the rank of Lieutenant a few years ago, to train what was rumoured to be a fifth company of SPARTAN-IIIs, Delta Company. The Lieutenant Commander knew that Delta Company had never been trained, but there were a few hundred SPARTAN-IIIs from Gamma Company Missing in Action. No one could find them yet, but with the UNSC's new technology, it would not be long. He had also recently been regrouped with his teammate, Lieutenant Hannah-201. Add them to the other Spartans being pulled out of low-level ops, and we've got pretty impressive numbers. It was good considering the fact that they were thought to be wiped out in 2553. It wasn't often that so many of them were placed on a single op, but right now, the Insurrection and other rebel forces posed a minimum threat, so the UNSC was glad to put the Spartans somewhere where they weren't just sitting on their asses. Now that they were all being pulled back into action, they could do a heck lot of damage on any enemy, and Felix was glad they were here. And pretty soon, so would the Sangheili. 1 Autel kept pace with the Fallen without difficulty, making not even the slightest noise from his hooves. He kept his eyes on the separatist, and knew that Fira was behind him. If he looked away for a moment, they could lose the enemy. It had taken them long enough to find him in the first place. He knew that the Fallen would most likely notice the active camouflage he and Fira were using as well should he turn around, as all Sangheili were trained to enhance their already sharp vision. But for the moment, it kept them a bit less conspicuous. Autel could make out the vague outline of a sack hefted over the Sangheili's back, and felt repulsed. Never had the Fallen resorted to such immoral methods of war. When they were formed during the first Age of Amendment, their leader Atsu 'Hidal was ruthless, but kept his faction within the bounds of honour and never declared war on the Sangheili. The new leader, whoever it was, didn't have a problem with going to any lengths to achieve his goals. The sight of seeing the younglings being kidnapped to provoke the families tempted him to free the newborns he was sure was inside. But if they waited, it was more likely they would find all of them. After many subunits, the Fallen arrived at an aircraft factory, and slipped inside. Autel blinked. Hidden in plain sight. It wasn't even abandoned. Just how much control over Sanghelios did the separatists possess? Autel hefted a Plasma Repeater. Fira took his Needle Rifle off his back. They entered before the doors closed, and— Thick, white powder sprayed them. Alarms rang through the factory. Autel swore as he realized that they didn't even take the time to check for security. They must have tripped a scanner. He hadn't been thinking straight since his newborns were kidnapped. Without telling anyone, he found Fira, who agreed to help him. Apparently several newborns from his family were stolen as well, although the latter currently had no offspring of his own. After many units of searching, they had spotted a blur moving quickly down the street. Sometimes stealth made you an obvious target. After following it for all day through various states, the separatist never realized he was being followed. And after the painstaking trail, their chance at stealth was just squandered by the single mistake. Fallen rushed in, firing at them. The powder had coated them completely, rendering the camouflage useless. Autel tried to take down as many as he could, but knew they would not last long. There was also no way around them. He and Fira started to back up, but more Fallen blocked the exits. They were trapped. Autel clenched his fists around his weapon. Everything had gone wrong. Now there was nothing for it but to fight to the death. He primed a plasma grenade and was about to throw it when an explosion tore the main door open. Dozens of Sangheili rushed in, firing at once. In a single heartbeat, the tables were turned, and soon the Fallen in the room were eliminated. Autel wiped some of the powder off his face, and gaped in surprise. "How did they know we were here?" Fira smiled. "I tend to think ahead, my friend. And I found many willing to help me." Autel saw his step-brother approach them and hand them cleaning units. "You look even paler than usual," he teased. Autel returned the smile, grateful that they had been there. Fira was conversing with a silver-armoured Sangheili. Autel knew that the Ultra was Fira's older cousin. "This is where they have taken them?" he asked. "I think so, Sona," Fira replied, activating the cleaning unit and watching it restore his armour back to its original crimson, "although there may also be other locations they hide in." "Then we shall find the scum responsible for this and wring out their innards until they reveal the truth to us," the Ultra growled. Autel was surprised. He knew that Sona 'Demal was a formidable warrior, but was also known for his lack of unnecessary aggression. He had never heard him speak with such venom in his voice. Then again, the Fallen had committed a great sin, and in addition abducted twenty-one newborns from the Demal line. Autel checked that his armour was free of powder, and re-entered invisibility. Fira did the same. "We shall investigate," he said. "If you remain here, the Fallen may think they held you up." A moment later, another door opened, and more Fallen entered. "Fire!" Sona ordered, and the Sangheili engaged the separatists. Autel and Fira moved through several empty rooms, and found a gravity lift in a parallel hallway, heading for the top floor. They stepped into it, and caught glimpses of the rooms they passed containing what looked like weapons and supplies clustered around magnetic containers and gravity belts. Autel heard a pipe explode below him as plasma melted a tube on the first level. He got a glimpse of fuel spilling all over the floor before they reached the top and were thrown out of the lift. They were in a docking bay, where ships were launched after construction. The testing passages were removed, and a stealth corvette parked below the exit. Groups of Fallen were taking opaque sacks and loading them onto the corvette. One of the sacks moved, and a separatist held up a can of tranquilizer. Facing away from the opening, he sprayed into the sack. The movements stopped. Another Sangheili stood at the base of the corvette's gravity lift. He was obviously in command. "Hurry," he snapped. "It will not be long before they find us." He turned to one of the Fallen. "Have the reinforcements been sent?" "Yes, Excellency," he replied. "Then deactivate the gravity lifts," he said. The Fallen complied, and the lift dimmed and shut down. There was something familiar about his voice. Autel realized who it was. "Isto 'Vadum," he whispered. Isto was infamous for his brutality, and had a well-known rivalry with Fleet Master Rtas 'Vadum. Although he was widely suspected to be a part of the Fallen, nothing had ever been proven. Until now. It was possible he could even be the leader of the Fallen. "What is our plan?" Fira asked. "Sona and his squad cannot reach us." "We should enter the ship," Autel said. "Perhaps we can disable it. Then we will reactivate the gravity lifts and convince Isto to surrender." "I do not think he will surrender," Fira remarked, but they moved for the ship. They would have to slip past Isto, but there was no other option. A Fallen carried three sacks and approached the gravity lift. "These are the last ones," he said, "and the storage facilities are full." "We shall carry them ourselves then," Isto said. He grabbed one of the sacks and moved for the gravity lift. There was a thud as the sack swung around and hit Fira in the shoulder. Isto's eyes flashed. He dropped the sack, pulled a concussion rifle out, and fired. Autel moved to help him, but his friend made a subtle gesture as he retaliated. It was their signal for "don't wait for me". He was obviously willing to give up his life for the newborns. Without allowing himself to hesitate, the former moved around them. He had to disable the ship. With any luck, the separatist would assume Fira was alone. Autel ran for the lift, but the other Fallen fired at Fira. The bolts connected with Autel's armour, and his camouflage vanished. Fira was returning fire, but Isto moved very quickly. He lashed out, catching Autel across the gullet with his rifle. He fell back, and plasma fire ripped around him. He accidentally let go of his gun, and saw it fall down the deactivated gravity lift. "Get aboard the ship!" Isto shouted. "I shall deal with them." Fira's needle rifle clicked empty, and he grabbed the Fallen in a chokehold. Isto flipped him over his back and sent him sprawling to the ground. He activated an Energy Sword, and was about to finish him, when Autel ran forward and slide-tackled him. He grabbed for the Energy Sword, and Fira found Isto's rifle. The Fallen leader stood up, backing towards the corvette's gravity lift. Autel lunged at him, but Isto ducked, knocking him on his front with a kick. Fira aimed the rifle at him. Isto saw the sack he dropped lying a few feet away. He couldn't get to it now. Smiling maliciously, he activated a plasma grenade, and threw it at the sack. Without hesitation, Fira stepped in front of the grenade. The explosive adhered to his chest, and he moved fast, away from the sack so the explosion would not harm the newborns. There was no fear in his eyes. Autel turned away as he saw the blue-white explosion consume his friend, and saw Isto running for the gravity lift. With a roar of fury, he threw the Energy Sword at Isto. One of the blades stuck into the Fallen's side, and he flinched, but disappeared up the gravity lift. The corvette lifted up and flew out of the hangar, flying up and out of the atmosphere. Autel ran to Fira, who was lying in a pool of his own blood. He looked around, feeling completely helpless, not knowing what to do. Then he stood up, and ran for the main controls. Autel reactivated the gravity lift, and Sangheili soldiers began rushing up. Sona approached him, and knelt beside his cousin. His eyes looked over the numerous open wounds upon Fira's body, and the remains of his armour stained purple. He was silent. Taszar opened the sack, checking over the newborns inside. There were a dozen unconscious newborns, and he checked to make sure they were alright. Autel turned back to Sona, who still did not speak. Finally, he said grimly, "He will live." I cannot say the same for that traitor, he thought. He watched as Sona gingerly lifted Fira, and headed back down the lift. He followed the squad out of the factory. 2 Jackson fired his magnum at the terrorist as he fired back. The bullet penetrated Jackson’s armour and caused him to stumble over a rock. Another SPARTAN fired back, the terrorist fell with clean shots through his body. The SPARTAN held their hand to Jackson. Hesitant, Jackson depolarized his visor and grabbed the SPARTAN’s hand. “Haha. Whats up, Rochelle? There’s nothing you cannot do.” Jackson said. “Well. I definitely cannot destroy a Covenant Supercarrier.” The two laughed and walked away from a huge pile of dead humans. The SPARTANs approached a UNSC Fox artillery surrounded by UNSC troopers. They were walking everywhere and pointing their weapons at nearby rooftops. The IIIs entered the artillery and stood behind a seat. “Sir!” The SPARTANs saluted. The seat turned around. A man stood up in front of Jackson and Rochelle. This green Mark V armour was rusted and almost covered in bullet holes. On the side of their helmet held the tag Stryker-B120. Jackson lowered his head to Stryker’s helmet. “Nice to see you back so soon, Jackson. Rochelle. Alright back to work. The Pakistani nuclear missile base in underground. Literally. The Navy had attempted a strike from a Orbital platform to do the work. Unfortunately, Pakistan have a tight lid on what they’re cooking.” “Why don’t you glass it?” Rochelle said. “You took the words out of my mouth. Remember that supercarrier that kept stalking us during the Fall of Reach?” “The Liberate Advocate?” Jackson answered. “Yeah. That thing is coming into action. Our job: We have to destroy all those Onager cannons positioned around the border of nearly the entire facility. They’re illegal and deadly; that's why we have a fox cannon.” Jackson leaned forward towards Stryker “Did you just say Onager''s''?” Stryker turned back to him “Yes. They would tear up a normal Fox of course but they’re almost useless against shields. We’ll have Engineer support inside, they’ll provide a stronger shield system. As for you two and Santos. You’re going in for some air support in some Magpie fighters. Good luck, SPARTANs.” Stryker turned and returned to tapping controls in the Fox. Jackson and Rochelle walked out to an almost destroyed building west of the Fox. They jumped the building and slowly approached a SPARTAN lying down on the rooftop with another trooper. “Three man squad. Six klicks from our position. Four man three clicks behind.” The trooper said. Jackson and Rochelle stopped and observed. “I bet I can take them all out.” Santos remarked. The trooper turned his head to her. “Oh really?” “Yeah.” “In exchange for what?” the trooper said. “A punch in the face.” The trooper looked at her in disbelief. “A punch in the face? Really?” “Punching a SPARTAN in the face is a pretty big deal, leatherneck.” She replied. “Right. On my mark.” Jackson stood like a statue and kept watching. “Three. Two. One. Mark!” The snipers fired simultaneously. Santos’ bullet went straight through two of the group’s head while the trooper killed one. “Aw come on!” The trooper complained. “You’re hogging all the fun!” Santos giggled and kept her eye through her scope. The final four man squad arrived to the scene and checked the dead group’s pulse. Santos tightened her grip and didn’t breathe. She was so focused and was determined to give the trooper a back hander. “Mark.” She whispered. Again the snipers traded sounds. Santos killed three of the men already as the trooper kept missing. Jackson side stepped and kicked Santos’ rifle. The trooper got the shot. Santos’ fists slammed the ground. “Shit!” The trooper giggled and raised his hand, ready to punch Santos’ on the shoulder. Unexpectedly, the sniping SPARTAN swiped the trooper to the wall. Santos stood up and began shoving Jackson to a wall. Rochelle giggled as Santos held Jackson up on the rest of the remaining wall . “This ain’t a game, Jackson!” she yelled. Jackson, in shock, pushed her away. However, Santos’ foot slammed Jackson, knocking him into the wall. “Me, You and Jackson are going sky-high while Stryker is destroying Onager cannons.” Rochelle said. “Onager''s''?” “That's exactly what I said when I heard.” Jackson said, still holding his stomach in agony. “Don’t worry, we’re using Magpies. We have to wait for a Covenant supercarrier. Come.” Rochelle gestured her hand to Santos’. The two female SPARTANs left Jackson and the trooper on the rooftop, still overwhelmed by the pain Santos caused. “Don’t worry. You get used to it.” The trooper said to Jackson as he still clutched his arm against the wall. 3 Lieutenant Leonardo "Leo" Simmons (UNSC Navy) looked down the iron sights of his SM6C service handgun, adjusting the weapons positioning until it was trained at the target, before pulling the weapons trigger three times in rapid succession, readjusting his aim quickly and efficiently following every shot. The slide locked back, the twelve round magazine depleted of 12.7mm x 40mm ammunition; the other nine expended previously. The Lieutenant was currently inside the range, just outside the armory; shooting at a paper target a good twenty meters away. The officer ejected the depleted magazine, slammed a full magazine into the receiver, and released the slide with a clack. He engaged the safety on the side of the weapon, manually checked it, and slid the weapon back on his holster. As a investigator within the Office of Investigations (OI), he was authorized to carry a sidearm, as well as possessing the right to arrest uniformed personnel and civilians alike for violating UNSC laws and statures. Not that he'd arrested anyone recently, being stationed aboard the UNSC Heroes All - an Injunction-class Cruiser. A crappy assignment in his new line of work. In fact, ever since he'd testified against a certain ONI officer following the Battle of Sydney, every assignment he'd had received had been a shitty posting. ONI had to be harboring a grudge, for the officer in question escaped indictment - and because Simmons had received a Naval battlefield commission from the very same person, and expelled from Naval Intelligence, back into Special Operations Command. Leo had been an ODST Gunnery Sergeant before his commission - but following the end of the Human-Covenant War, Orbit Drop Shock Troopers were somewhat useless, being garrisoned planet side. Thus resulted in Leo lodging a request for transfer into the Office of Investigations - more commonly referred to as "oh-eye" - to become an investigator. However, he really did not investigate much up to this point in his career, besides minor crimes on ship and a couple of homicides. He exited the range, sealing the hatch behind him, and made his way through the titanium corridors of the Heroes All, returning to the OI Office, amidships. He sat at his deck, checked his AS2549 Portable Computer for new messages. Finding none, he closed the lid of the computer, propped his feet on the desk, and leaned back in his chair for a nap. Yet another boring day, he thought in dismay. 4 Ralph-G299 grunted as he hauled himself off the bunk in the NAVSPECWAR barracks room, his stiff body protesting over his sudden departure from the nap he'd just awoken from. He felt a tiny gleam of satisfaction as he stretched and felt the bones in his genetically augmented limbs snap into their proper places under his skin. The satisfaction was accompanied by a greater sense of relief as he reached out and activated the chiming communicator that had drawn him out of his slumber; it had rescued him from a particularly unpleasant dream. He flicked the communicator on while cricking his neck. There was no need for any sort of formalities here; only one person ever called him on this. "Yup," he said into the communicator's speaker, stifling a yawn as he did so. "What's goin' on, Jake?" The voice of Jake-G293, his immediate superior and sole remaining squad mate crackled back at him over the speaker. As usual, it managed to be as clipped and devoid of emotion as humanly possible. "Ralph. You up?" "If I weren't, I wouldn't be talkin' to ya," Ralph drawled sleepily. "What's the deal?" Jake's response immediately snapped him out of his funk. "We've got marching orders again. Looks big this time. Get your gear sorted and report to the briefing room by 0730." "Roger that." Ralph considered adding some extra quip in his reply just to see if he could rile up Jake, but he decided against it. Nothing ever got Jake wound up, be it whatever enemy they were ordered to kill or Ralph's own consistent insubordination. He just didn't get angry anymore, or at least not like he'd used to back when it wasn't just the two of them left in Team Jian. Before Terrence and Mary. Before Cassandra. Before Simon. Shutting off the communicator, Ralph checked the timepiece strapped to his bare arm. 0630. He had an hour before he needed to report to briefing. Plenty of time to get a little self-indulgence in, so long as he wasn't interrupted. The news that he and Jake would be back in the field, back where they belonged, had filled his body with a faint tingle of excitement, but the pleasant feeling was already dying away and being replaced by the tense, quivering sensation that always haunted him when he was away from the action. And with the lull of sleep still lingering in the back of his mind, he needed to do something to ease his nerves. Fortunately, he knew just what to do. Sitting back down on the bed, he scratched his exposed armpits with a deliberate intensity. All he ever really wore in the barracks was a stained and faded undershirt and a pair of equally frayed briefs. Most of his fellow SPARTAN-IIIs, male and female alike, called him piggish, but Jake never said a word about it. He, like Ralph himself, just didn't give a shit, which was the way Ralph liked it. He cricked his neck again and popped his knuckles, momentarily alleviating the tension that coursed through his body. He needed to run, damn it, to get up and throw some punches and shoot some hostiles. Every moment that he wasn't doing that was a moment wasted in Ralph's opinion, and the thought of all that constantly wasted time made him want to scream with frustration. He needed an outlet and he needed one now. Licking his lips in anticipation, he reached under his cot's pillow and retrieved the M6 sidearm he kept under it at all times when not in the field. The weapon's grip--worn completely smooth by his constant attentions--felt cool and comforting in his palm, its cold metal clashing wonderfully with his hot hand. With a practiced ease, Ralph ejected its clip to make sure that it was loaded, then replaced it and ran a single finger down the barrel until it slid down onto the weapon's safety catch and flicked it off. He checked around him carefully for surveillance equipment of any kind. Spartans like himself considered it their duty in life to make it as hard as possible for their Office of Naval Intelligence handlers to monitor them, and the ONI boys had learned that the best way to avoid thousands of credits worth of equipment damage was to avoid putting cameras in Spartan barracks at all. Still, it never hurt to be careful. Especially with what Ralph was about to do. If he were somehow monitored doing this, he'd be buried in so many investigations and psych evaluations that he'd have no choice but to snap and kill a few people just so that all those psychologists and analysts had something real to investigate. Confident that there was no one and nothing around to observe him, Ralph cricked his neck one last time before raising the M6 and resting its barrel on his temple. He let out a sigh of pure satisfaction as all the tension flowed out of his body and was replaced with a feeling of intense, almost ecstatic, calm. His finger curled around the trigger, and everything was at peace in the universe of Ralph-G299. Now everything was just as it should be. There was nothing standing between him and oblivion except the immeasurably tiny sliver of air that rested between his finger and the M6's trigger. He was looking death in the face and Death was looking right back, daring him to slip up or lose control. All it would take was one loud noise, one startled grunt from someone walking in on him, and his enhanced reactions would force him to flinch and press down on the trigger. A distant part of him wondered if he would even feel the pistol's recoil in his wrist before a chunk of lead was propelled through his brain, but most of him wasn't even in the room anymore... He was resting on the roof of a low building, his armored body covered by a thin sheet of camouflage foil that hopefully rendered him undetectable to the Insurrectionist soldiers that milled around on the ground below him. There was a sniper rifle in his hands, and he was gazing down it's scope through his helmet's Heads Up Display interface, his eyes scanning the view for the moment when his target would come into view. Then he'd need to neutralize him with a single shot and make his getaway into the surrounding woodlands while Jake lit up the other side of the Insurrectionist compound to cover his escape. One false move, one missed shot, and their mission would be compromised. And a compromised mission could easily lead to one or both of their deaths... This was the real world, the one that Ralph really and truly lived in. Back in the barracks or in transit to an assignment, he was little more than a shadow, a meaningless speck amidst the immense bulk of space. But out here, he was the author of his own fate and the fates of dozens and possibly hundreds of others. The hunt. The chase. The fights. That was what Ralph lived for, what he had been trained and raised to live for since he was less than seven years old. That was his reality, not the reality invented by a collection of faceless, uniformed goons who had given him a number and made him just one amongst hundreds of other Spartans. But now there was an undercurrent of discomfort amidst all the adrenaline, one that made him frown and open his eyes and realize that he wasn't actually in those woods. No, he was simply sitting on a cot in a small, drab barracks room and he was in briefs and an undershirt holding a gun to his own head. Something had ruined the illusion this time, and with a surge of sudden disgust he threw the weapon down on the bed and leapt to his feet. It had been his dream, his miserable dream that had snuck in and messed things up for him this time, and he channeled his burst of loathing with a blindingly fast punch that left a dent in the metal wall. Ignoring the shooting pain in his knuckles he bent over and got to work checking his gear. Goddamn you, Terrence and Mary. Goddamn you for dying. You too, Cassandra. And Simon. Why couldn't you have just stayed dead, huh? Why'd you have to come back and fuck everything up? He sincerely hoped that Jake was right about whatever they were about to be briefed on. This had better be something big. He needed it to be. 5 Stryker held his hands tightly around the Fox's steering wheel. The ramp outside slammed onto the Fox's hull. The Engineers behind Stryker were simultaneously attaching wires to different monitors. Stryker continued making calculations on the dashboard in front of him as the Fox began to slowly move. A voice spoke to him through the dashboard. "Fox online. Engines online. Weapon systems offline. Would you like to enable weapon systems?" It asked. "Yes." Stryker said. Another portion of the Fox's dashboard lit up as the Fox started to drive over large humps. One of the Huragok bumped into the other as the explosive vehicle kept bumping. After driving approximately 6 klicks from the temporary base the fox was dropped off, one of the Engineers came up to Stryker and tapped him on the shoulder with it's tentacle as the other pointed to an unnoticed area of the dashboard. Surrounding the Fox was a dozen hostile targets of Pakistani descent. Suddenly, the shield flared up. The multiple turrets stationed of the Fox fired at the terrorists. Stryker slammed his foot on the pedal and the Fox broke through dozens of nearly destroyed buildings. As Stryker kept taking heat, a gigantic skyscraper stood in front of him. Confident, Stryker smashed through the building like a gigantic stack of dominoes. The Fox leaped out and landed. Following the Fox's jump, a beam of light streaked past the Fox like a bullet as it impacted the building. The Onager cannon glared at the Fox with it's charging gun. The Fox raised it's cannon and fired. The Onager exploded like a firework. Stryker turned the Fox and started driving a long dirt highway as the many Magpie fighters took flight and battled the Pelicans and Hornets overhead. Stryker kept holding the pedal as the Fox ran over countless bodies of anti UNSC resistance. The explosive rounds of the Fox's secondary cannon blew holes in the ruined buildings on the way. Suddenly, the ground rocked and trembled. A gigantic hole in the ground above the aerial battle opened. A large missile-like structure made it's descent to space. Three of the Magpies above took chase and followed the missile into atmosphere. The missile shot straight past a UNSC Marathon-class cruiser as the three Magpies docked in. A large slipspace portal opened wide as a gigantic Sangheili ship went through and fired it's plasma torpedoes at the missile. A large explosion rocked the sky and the enemy aircraft in the sky began to fall. The supercarrier was simultaneously fired at by the remaining Onager cannons until their demise at the powerful, unstoppable carrier. The Marathon-class entered the slipspace portal the carrier had came from. The Fox's radio transmission crackled. "Humans. We require you help at our homeworld. The Fallen have risen! Something had come with us in our escape." the shipmaster said. "Commander Damion. We have no time to assist in your homeworld, we have just stopped a nuclear missile from attacking the US. We need to help civilians." a colonel said. The radio crackled energy again until a more familiar voice spoke. "This is Lieutenant Commander Jackson-A104 of Special Warfare group Three. The UNSC ''Marathon-class cruiser Invictus had just entered Supreme Commander Cedul's portal. Shanghai is under attack by basically their own fleet. They call themselves 'The Fallen'. We require immediate support.''" the radio said. Stryker stopped the vehicle as a black colored Phantom dropship fired and flipped the Fox over while the Huragok were distracted. Stryker flew out of his seat and rocked around in the Fox. The next moment the Fox stopped, the Huragok were dead and Stryker had landed out of the Fox. The Phantom hovered above him as he was levitating above to the Phantom. Swiftly, the Magpies pursuing the Phantom was no match to the modified flying vehicle as it just sped to the portal as it began to close. 6 7 Category:RP